Sugar
by Lady Lye
Summary: Rating for mild language. Lx3!! Lx3!! NOT Shonen ai, even if it might look it. To the song 'Sugar' by Tonic, a gift for Girl Chama. Who cares- it's Lx3!! Everyone loves Lx3!! R&R!!


It ain't BTL, but I hope it'll work for a quick fix, GC-chan…  
  
  
'Sugar'  
  
By Lady Lye  
  
For Girl Chama who's been begging for some decent 3xL… here it is! I'm working on BTL, too, I swear!! She beta-ed for me, too!! All hail GC-chan!  
  
Disclaimer: Whatever you're bitching about, sod off cuz you're most likely overreacting. I don't own it, I'm not making money off it, and it's FREE PROMOTION for you so quit your whinging and hush.   
  
(Nice use of native language there… ^^;)  
  
Warnings: Er, AU. Very much so. Not a lot about that will explained, so just run with it. Accept what I tell you as gospel and don't ask questions, k?   
  
___________  
  
Pans clattered together, banging against plates and being whacked with utensils, the first layer of noise in the massive kitchen of Shea's Catering. The next was that created by the gas flames; boiling, simmering, frying, baking, sautéing, browning; they added dimension. The mix was punctuated by knives coming down on cutting boards and trays sliding with a metallic shing onto their shelves. Clamoring to be heard above it all, and adding the final chaos to the mix, were the calls of men and women, working at the stoves, wielding the knives, adjusting the burners, decorating the cakes, and trying to communicate over the din.   
  
Lita Kino swiftly moved from station to station, a clipboard in her hand. She stopped to talk with each chef she came in contact with, referring back to the clipboard until they nodded and she moved on. A plate of appetizers was placed under her nose and she took one, expertly rolling the food around her mouth, analyzing the taste and flavor. A nod, a few more words, and the plate was whisked away to be made ready for delivery.   
  
Wistfully, she thought of how she would personally have added a touch more lime to the sauce, but shrugged it off. This promotion had boosted her from cook to manager, increasing her responsibility as well as her paycheck, which she sorely needed. She no longer had the joy of preparing foods she knew would give others pleasure, but she was learning to appreciate her job now as well. To not loathe it, at least.   
  
Directing the servers for that evening as they packed food into the van, she found herself actually liking the feel of being in charge. She wasn't typically a leader, more a right arm to what leader she felt deserved her support, but now with age and maturity, she was finding merit in managing. She quickly changed into a formal, practical, and modest black dress for her role as hostess, changing the rose studs at her ears for more elegant drop rhinestones. She brushed her hair out and did it up in another ponytail, spicing it up with a rhinestone-studded clip, and swiped shadow and mascara over her eyes. She called back to her second in command that she was nearly ready and quickly but carefully put on a subtle, yet deep magenta lipstick. Grabbing a pair of high heels to slide on in the van, she took her seat next to the driver.   
  
The air tingled with a low buzz of excitement and nerves, the same one that was always present before a catering job. The team arrived at the client's house and went to work like a well-oiled machine, setting up tables, chairs, plates and finally food, under Lita's eye, always watchful for potential problems. The owner of the house, a pleasant, almost boyish young man with blond hair and blue eyes came down to meet them and Lita spoke with him. He was the client, the one who had hired them to cater this party. Returning to her team, she spared the large room they were in a glance.   
  
It was like a modestly rich person's ballroom, trying to be subtle that there was money here, but failing unutterably, as nothing could disguise the excellent craftsmanship on six-foot chandeliers hanging from thirty-foot ceilings. Against the back wall, hired musicians tuned their instruments. Had she been ten years younger, she would have called it a modern fairy tale, eyes bright with the dreams of youth.  
  
Her dreams had been spliced and molded to the will of society and she was too old for fairy tales. Perhaps it was better for her sensitive, romantic heart that she had not the time to spare to contemplate such things. She had a job to do.   
___________  
  
The blond young man stood at the door, greeting each of his guests personally with a warm smile and handshake or hug. It was obvious he didn't need to, as staff seemed to be everywhere, doing their jobs. It seemed more that he WANTED to, that his heart was so kind that it had to spread it's own happiness to everyone around it, even if it died trying.   
  
His eyes flicked away from his current guest's face at the sound of the gravel on the driveway being turned up by the wheels of a car. His blue eyes flashed in recognition immediately and he made no move to make this greeting any longer than it was already. The fairly steady stream of guests continued to trickle in, but the flash in his eyes did not return until a tall young man of perhaps the same age with dark emerald eyes and chestnut hair combed across his face came to stand before him.  
  
The blond smiled more warmly than he had yet that day and clasped the other man's hands in his own. "Trowa. It's good to see you again."  
  
The reserved man smiled, a small one, yes, but it reached his eyes, able to seem just as warm. "It's been a long time, Quatre."  
  
"Too long. Thank you for coming."  
  
"I wouldn't have missed it. I'm here on business so I'll be in town for a week or two."  
  
Quatre nodded. "We'll have to get together, then. I've missed you, Trowa."   
  
Trowa nodded as well, and gave one of his small, half smiles. "I've missed you as well, old friend. I'll talk to you later." Smoothly, he pulled away and entered the near ballroom where guests milled, danced, socialized and ate. It was truly a joyous occasion. Everywhere he looked were exquisite decorations, the most fabulous being a large chandelier at the peak of the high ceiling. The walls were covered in artwork depicting classical scenes, throwbacks to the Renaissance, and before it, the classical period. Smiling faces were everywhere- each hidden behind a mask. A masquerade.   
  
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a clown mask, covering only half his face, turning the one side into a silly grin. He put it on, and the other half, his true face, remained calm and neutral. Now fully dressed, he moved into the room, quickly becoming swept up by half familiar faces, as that was all of them he could see.   
  
He moved between them easily, like a wraith, drifting in and out of the lives of the partygoers. Some would remember him well; others barely spared him a glance, and would certainly never honor him with another thought. He didn't really care either way; he was making the rounds purely so that Quatre would not worry that he wasn't enjoying himself. The little Arabian was too sweet sometimes; he had the biggest heart of anyone Trowa had ever met. He still owed Quatre for saving his soul.   
  
That had been a dark time in his life, when nothing had seemed to matter much except the tasks he had been given to complete. Even his own life was worthless, it's importance defined solely by the fact that without it, his missions would be unfinished and by definition, failed. Even those were beginning to seem pointless, until he had met Quatre, who with his big heart had offered his friendship and hospitality at no cost. Trowa would be grateful to him for the rest of his life. Quatre had taken away the dead feeling he had grown so accustomed to.   
  
Yet, perhaps it would have been better that way. Now instead of feeling nothing all over, he felt many things, the most painful of which was a deep hole in his chest that radiated pain and loneliness.   
  
He did his best to hide the hole.  
  
Amidst so many more self-involved people, all trying to hide their own problems, it really wasn't that hard. And as the music played, he moved amongst them, hidden in plain sight, and mingled to the beat.   
___________  
  
"Joe, that tray needs to be replaced-"  
  
"On it-"  
  
"More napkins? Miranda, make another round with the cocktails, could you?"  
  
"Sure-"  
  
"Yes-"  
  
Lita did her share of physical work as well as kept a constant eye on the situation, and called out orders. Everything was running smoothly, despite the huge amount of work. She didn't pause to rest, knowing that if she did something might go unseen and cause trouble later. Every so often, guests would smile and ask her a polite question or make a small joke and she would smile back, a little unsteady from having been shaken from her concentration, but she made small talk back and laughed at their jokes, even though she had heard most of them before.   
  
The evening wore on and the alarm on her watch beeped, signaling that it was time to clear away the savory foods and put out dessert. The team leapt into action and Lita helped to carry out trays piled high with cakes, cookies and other delights. Guests began to slowly drift over even as they were setting up and Lita spared them smiles. She set a tray of miniature strawberry tarts on the clean tablecloth and looked up at the room, trying to get an idea of how eager the guests were for dessert.   
  
She froze, staring, unable to believe. There, across the room. Did the fates really dip their meddling fingers into the lives of mortals, or was she imagining it? In a moment, she had lost him to the crowd, her glimpse too short. She stared at the place she had seen him, heart beating fast; trying furiously to remember exactly what he had looked like.   
  
"Lita? Lita? Lita, are you alright?"   
  
"Huh?" she turned, wide-eyed at the girl on her staff.  
  
"Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost or something," the girl was looking at her worriedly.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Lita shook her head, forcing a smile. "Uh, where are the chocolate éclairs?"  
___________  
  
"Lita, can you take my place at the bar for a minute?"  
  
"Oh, sure-" Lita took the white apron and tied it around her waist, going to stand at the bar next to the other guy manning it. He gave her a grateful smile before handing a drink to a middle-aged woman and taking another's order. Lita put a smile on her face and turned to the next in line. "What can I get you?"   
  
She expertly mixed the drink and handed it to the man, who nodded his thanks and moved aside for the next person in line. Lita wiped her hands on a towel quickly and looked up, smiling courteously. "Hi, what can I get you?"  
  
"Do you have anything non-alcoholic?" said a pair of the deepest green eyes she had ever seen. Or rather, one eye, the other half hidden behind soft chestnut hair.   
  
She realized she was staring and her cheeks colored a little. "Uh, sure, beers, wines-" she hastily grabbed a menu and thrust it at him, suddenly feeling clumsy and off-balance. Her hands shook a little and she hid it with the towel again, biting her lip and looking at him hopefully, eager to please, as he perused the menu.  
  
Trowa glanced at the menu, picking out something immediately. His eyes traveled to a bottle that held Lita's reflection and studied her curiously. He had seen she was pretty from the first, and now that he was closer, he saw that she was beautifully intriguing. Something about her made him want very much to know more. Perhaps it was being communicated through his eyes however, because she certainly looked more than a little flustered. Flirt? Definitely. "I'll take a white from AC150," he smiled at her.  
  
"Right away!" she squeaked, turning quickly to hide the sudden rush of color in her cheeks. Her heart was pounding and she fumbled with the cabinet's doors, cursing her own foolish clumsiness. 'Ok, so he's gorgeous. You've seen gorgeous men before. They've even looked at you that way before- so why are you falling apart just because THIS one did?!' Taking a deep breath, she picked up the bottle with both hands and set it carefully on the counter between them, making sure it wouldn't fall, and religiously avoiding his amused gaze. She took a glass in both hands as well, firmly determined not to drop it and make herself seem even more the fool. Expertly, she poured the wine and pushed it towards him, taking a deep breath and replacing the smile, a little calmer now. "Here you are, sir," she made the mistake of looking up and was immediately caught and held in his eyes again.  
  
"Thank you very much," silent laughter, though not unkind, danced in his eyes as he accepted the glass. "I may be back later with such excellent service," he half turned to go, holding her gaze for as long as he dared before disappearing into the throng again.   
  
Lita stared after him, mouth hanging open slightly. Oh wow. The girl working at the bar came back and she hastily handed the apron back to her, running through the tables to the kitchen and the small bathroom in the hall next to it, locking the door behind her. Quickly, she checked her hair and make-up, whipping out a comb and lipstick. Her heart was pounding as she touched up, unable, it seemed, to slow down. She stared at her reflection, swallowing hard and concentrating on a normal breathing pattern. "What am I doing?" she asked the mirror. It didn't reply. More than a little confused now, she leaned back against the wall. "I don't get it… I've seen guys better looking than him, haven't I?"   
  
'Sure, on TV.'  
'In your dreams.'  
  
Wasn't he the stuff of dreams?  
  
'What's WRONG with me? What makes him so special?'  
'His gorgeous green eyes, that mess of hair falling playfully into them, his broad, well muscled shoulders, the way he stands that shows he's had some kind of training, the intelligence flashing in those eyes, his smile, his-'  
'Did I really pick up all THAT in barely thirty seconds?!'  
'Hell yes, I did.'  
'But why's he so different?'  
  
The question bothered her and she crossed her arms over her chest, frustrated. "Why's he so different?"  
___________  
  
Trowa didn't realize it as he moved back through the crowd, but the smile stayed on his lips. He didn't glance at anyone else, preoccupied by his own thoughts.   
  
She was beautiful, truly. Simple and classic, not overdone or flashy. Her eyes, as green as his own, showed everything that went on behind them, showcasing her surprise and fluster. Her darker brown hair had come loose from its ponytail around her face, framing it lightly and belying her cool manner. Or, he thought with a grin, cool until he had showed up. Passing a plant, he debated throwing some of the wine in so that he could indeed return sooner.   
  
The smile still painted his features as he approached the group where Quatre was talking to some associates, though he didn't see him. Quatre glanced up and smiled, face falling when Trowa didn't so much as glance at him. Making a hasty exit, he caught up to the taller man and tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
"Hm?" Trowa turned, still smiling. It widened as he saw that it was the small blond Arab. "Hello, Quatre. Wonderful party."  
  
Quatre stared at him. "Trowa, are you feeling alright? What's in that wine?"  
  
"The meaning of life," Trowa smiled giddily. He felt so happy now- as though his heart would burst through his chest and into song.  
  
"What?! Trowa, how much have you had?!" Quatre demanded, mind reeling. Who was this and what had he done with Trowa? Trowa didn't smile- he didn't GRIN. He didn't crack jokes. He didn't- he didn't GET DRUNK. He must be tipsy- maybe someone had slipped something into his drink?   
  
"This is my first glass," Trowa chuckled. "I've barely had anything the whole time I've been here. Ah, now I'm sorry I did- Quatre this catering service is excellent." The comment seemed to be funny to him and his eyes danced with laughter.   
  
Quatre stared at him, then lightly but firmly put a hand on the arm holding the wine glass. "Trowa, I want you to be honest with me now. Who gave you the drink and how much have you had?"  
  
That sent Trowa into a small bout of laughter and it took him a moment before he could answer. "I told you already- this is my first glass! Besides, it's non-alcoholic. And as for who gave it to me? That enchanting girl at the bar gave it to me! Where did you hire these people, Quatre? They've got excellent personnel!"  
  
It took Quatre a moment for this to register. "A girl. At the bar? The caterers? One of them? A girl?"  
  
"Yes, yes, a girl! A beautiful girl! Oh, Quatre, she's incredible! I've never felt this way in my life! Here, come get a drink and I'll point her out to you-" Trowa said excitedly, tugging on the smaller man's arm.  
  
Quatre blinked several times, then started to laugh. "You mean- you mean you've got a crush on one of the caterers?!"  
  
Trowa sobered and gave him a mild glare. "Not a crush. Crushes sound like something insignificant- they never really work; they're doomed from the start. Now do you want to see her or not?"   
  
"Yes, yes! Show me who's done this to you!" Quatre laughed, relief and joy for his friend buoying him up. Trowa wasted no time in dragging him towards the bar, skirting around the crowd gathering at the desserts. Quatre studied the staff, trying to pick out which one could have caught Trowa's eye. They stopped several feet from the end of the line, and Quatre glanced up expectantly.  
  
Trowa had lost his smile, and he was restlessly searching the people behind the counters as well. "She's not there…" he murmured, a cloud descending over him.  
  
"Not there? What did she look like?" Quatre tried to peer around people to see.  
  
"Tall, hair darker than mine in a ponytail, green eyes, she wasn't in uniform like these others," Trowa shook his head sadly.   
  
Quatre spared him an odd look. What man could remember that much after first meeting a woman? He MUST like her. Suddenly the description registered. "Was she wearing a dress? All black?"  
  
"Yes," Trowa blinked down in surprise.   
  
"Then I know who she is," Quatre beamed. "That's Lita Kino, the manager."  
  
"M-manager?" Trowa blinked.   
  
"Yes! I met her when they first arrived. She's very nice- here-" Quatre politely pushed ahead to the table and spoke with the guy setting out more plates. He returned to Trowa, beaming. "He said she's gone to the back for a moment but I asked him to give her a message to see me when she can."  
  
Gratitude and new hope surged through Trowa and the smile returned. "Thank you, Quatre! Thank you so much!"  
  
"No need for thanks; you're my friend," he held up a hand, smiling. "Let's go sit somewhere that she can find us. You've got it BAD, my friend."   
  
"Huh?" Trowa followed him to several couches and chairs only a short way from the musicians and dance floor. "Got what?"  
  
"It. For her. I've never seen you this way before," Quatre smiled, taking a seat. Trowa awkwardly followed, still looking confused. "If this IS a crush, then you must wear your heart on your sleeve. If not," he shrugged. "Who knows?"  
___________  
  
Lita realized the time and quickly pulled herself back together, slipping back into the routine of her job. She pushed away all thoughts of a- *swoon* tall man with emerald eyes and broad shoulders in a dashing tuxedo. She worked diligently, making her rounds, taking her time before she had to go right to the front again. She was saved from possible humiliation when one of the men stopped her.  
  
"Lita, Mr. Winner came by and asked you to see him whenever you got the time."  
  
"What?" Lita blinked and dread filled her stomach. Had she done something wrong? Wasn't he happy? "Did he say why?"  
  
"No, just asked that you did when you could find time," he shrugged.   
  
"Oh shit… here," she handed him her clipboard and quickly found her way into the crowd, asking guests if they knew where Mr. Winner was. They directed her to a sitting area separate from the dance floor and she did a quick check in a pocket mirror before walking ahead. "Mr. Winner?" she asked, coming up to his chair. People moved and she froze. There, sitting across from her employer was- HIM!  
  
"Ah, Ms Kino," Quatre smiled up at her. "Please have a seat," he indicated a chair craftily placed for the purpose, allowing all three to see each other perfectly. Trowa's eyes followed her as she sat, and Quatre's lurking suspicions were confirmed. He had it BAAAAAAAAAAAD.   
  
"Uh, what did you want to see me about? Is there something wrong?" she avoided Trowa's eyes and kept her flustered gaze firmly fixed on Quatre. She knew he was watching her, she could feel his green eyes sweeping her length, and she had to suppress a delicious shudder.   
  
"No, everything's wonderful as my friend here has told me," Quatre smiled, indicating Trowa. "Ms Kino, may I introduce my friend Trowa Barton? Trowa, this is Lita Kino, she's in charge of our catering service tonight."   
  
"I- I think we've met," Lita said shakily, looking at Trowa- there was no help for it now.  
  
"But not formally," he leant forward and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips for a soft, light kiss, his eyes never leaving her shocked face. "It's a pleasure to meet you."  
  
"It's nice to meet you, too…" she murmured, spellbound.   
  
Quatre watched with interest. So she liked him, too, very much it seemed. His sixth sense was going wild, telling him things he could see quite plainly with his eyes. He coughed surreptitiously and tried to hide his amusement. "Ms Kino, you must be wondering why I DID call you up here?"  
  
"Huh?" she looked up, wide-eyed.  
  
Quatre smiled, 'Oh this is almost too good to be true. I hope it works… for Trowa's sake…' "I wanted to give you and your staff a reward for doing such a good job tonight. You may all have the rest of the evening off if you would like, my staff can take care of things."   
  
Lita stared at him for a moment while the words registered. She was dumbfoundedly aware of Trowa letting her hand go and sitting back, but she felt frozen in place. "S-sorry? W-why?"  
  
"Because your staff have been excellent tonight. I'm sure you don't get this often- relax. Take a break. Enjoy the party," Quatre smiled warmly at her.  
  
"Are you sure?" Lita blinked. She couldn't think of anything else to say- this was completely unexpected and more than generous.   
  
"Absolutely positive. I've already sent someone back to tell your staff, so you're free to begin here and now," the blond man was absolutely grinning now, as though he knew some private joke that she didn't.   
  
"Thank you," she whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes. She knew she wasn't the only one who wished to be a guest rather than a worker at these parties. "Thank you so, so much-"  
  
"No thanks is necessary. Please, just enjoy yourself."  
  
Trowa glanced at the musicians as their piece came to a close and those nearby began a fluttering applause. It was now or never, and somehow, he felt incredibly nervous now as he looked at her and swallowed hard. "Would you like to dance?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Oh-!" Lita's eyes could not get any larger, and she blinked at him, then at the musicians preparing to begin again, a man coming to the microphone at the front. "Yes," she turned to Trowa and smiled. "Yes, I would."  
  
His heart soared and he took hand again, smiling back as he pulled them both to their feet.   
  
/Come on baby get your shoes on  
You're looking like you need a rescue   
Underneath the southern moonlight  
Where only I can find you  
We can do it with our eyes closed  
We can sit and talk for hours  
Underneath the golden flowers  
Where my sunshine grows  
  
Sugar my love  
Sugar my burn  
Sugar may hide  
Sugar may learn/  
  
  
Tentatively, their hands found each other and they started to dance, moving further onto the dance floor as they did. Lita glanced up a little nervously, thrilling that she had to look up to see his face. He smiled down, taking his own satisfaction in that he didn't have to look down as far to see her smiling eyes. She smiled back, and found herself slipping into an easy rhythm with him.  
  
/I could give a thousand reasons  
I could live a thousand lives  
I know I would always meet you  
Underneath a summer sky  
So come on tell me love is glory  
Come on tell me love is real  
Show me what your heart is made of  
Show me what I need to feel  
  
Sugar my love  
Sugar my burn  
Sugar may hide  
Sugar may learn/  
  
Trowa's arm around her waist pulled her a little closer. Somehow, here, the hole in his chest was gone. Not just hidden- but gone.   
  
"Do you know Mr. Winner well?" she asked, still smiling. Inside, a small voice insistently brought doubts to the surface. She tried to shield her fragile heart from them and just enjoy the moment. She knew what was happening. He was obviously rich, possibly well known, too good looking not to be snapped up quickly by some more advantageous woman and not truly interested in her. The evidence? He knew Quatre Winner and was invited as guest to his party.   
  
"He's one of best friends. I don't get to see him enough. Sometimes I wonder if I'm living on the wrong colony," he said honestly, instantly regretting it.  
  
/Show me that love is worth the wait  
Tell me I'm right  
Give me your love don't hesitate  
Show me tonight  
  
I waited so long for a love so true  
So I'm giving it all right back to you  
I'm giving you my best of silver  
I'm giving you my best of gold/  
  
The smile fell away and so did her eyes. "So you don't live here?" The final icing on the cake; he wouldn't even be around for a second meeting, most likely. Why had she let herself dare to dream?  
  
"No…" he cursed his stupidity and searched desperately for some way to tell her what was becoming clearer and clearer to him every moment. "Lita…"   
  
/Sugar may hide  
Sugar may burn/  
  
He remembered her name. When was the last time someone as above her as he had bothered to learn her name? She looked up then, searching her face. Maybe it wasn't a deluded fantasy, maybe she wasn't hallucinating what she saw in his eyes. "What…Trowa…?"  
  
/So come on baby get those shoes on  
And we can run away from here  
Talk about a life we're starting  
We can start it all right here/  
  
"I want to see you again," he whispered. It was the most daring thing he had ever done. He was opening up, making himself vulnerable. If she scorned the offering- he didn't want to think about that. "I want to get to know you. I want to dance with you again, like we are now. -I want to kiss you."  
  
She stared up at him, thunderstruck. Part of her stood still, frozen, and the other was off on a whirlwind of thoughts, racing through her brain at a thousand miles a minute. "You want to what?"   
  
"I want to kiss you," he traced the line of her jaw, reverently, the light curls fallen from her ponytail brushing lightly against his hand. He drank in everything about her, her dark eyes framed by soft lashes, smooth cheeks burning with color, soft lips trembling, a pale rose pink. His voice dropped to the softest of whispers. "May I?"  
  
/Show me that love is worth the wait  
Tell me I'm right  
Give me your love don't hesitate  
Show me tonight/  
  
She nodded feebly, her eyes drifting closed as he tilted her chin up to sweetly brush his lips with hers. Her quivering lips found the sense to kiss back and her hand on his shoulder, came up to pull him down closer. She had never been kissed like this. It was the kind of kiss she had dreamed of since she was old enough to understand what kissing meant. It was soft, and sweet and gentle, and what was behind it was more potent than any sexual desire.   
  
"I think I love you…"  
___________  
  
Differently calloused fingers, laced together, swung between their owners, not needing gloves, as they were each other's warmth. Traveling upward, the smiling faces came into view. One lit from within with a warmth that had come from the filling of a hole in his heart, the other glowing with a radiant blush as he teased her gently. The long walk seemed all too short as they came to the restaurant, going inside quickly to escape the unusually chilly air.   
  
People looked up at the noise they made, still laughing. They gave insincere, semi-guilty looks and he quickly asked the host about their table. Rolling his eyes, the man led them to a table near the back, where a blond man sat.   
  
"Late again?" he arched an eyebrow, laughter dancing in his blue eyes.  
  
"His fault- he insisted we take a taxi instead of the bus," Lita poked Trowa in the ribs, pulling her jacket off.   
  
"I thought it would be faster!" Trowa protested, shrugging out of his own jacket. He looked to Quatre beseechingly, but he only shrugged and smiled.   
  
"Not a problem," the blonde said. He had never seen such a healthy glow to his friend's pale skin. In just three weeks, he had come alive, talking and laughing and smile more than he ever had before. And it was all because of Lita. She had opened him up, been shy and tentative at first, then relaxed and handed over her whole heart, trusting him completely. Perhaps it was a foolish decision, but how could you say that when you saw the happiness in both their eyes, especially when they looked at each other?  
  
Lita sat and picked up the menu, her free hand reaching over to take Trowa's and squeeze it. "Have you ordered already, Quatre?"  
  
"Not yet, I waited for you," he indicated his menu, opened to his choice.   
  
"Now I feel bad, Quatre," Trowa leafed through the menu one handed, the fingers of his other hand stroking the back of Lita's palm absently. It was such a natural thing now, neither thought about it, though they would surely miss it if it stopped. "You shouldn't have."  
  
"I told you, it's not a problem. Now order so you can tell us why it was so important we all get together," Quatre said firmly.   
  
"He won't tell me, either," Lita mocked a pout.   
  
"I told you, it's a secret," Trowa glanced at them both.   
  
"May I take your order?" the waitress scribbled it down and took their menus, disappearing into the kitchen.   
  
They both looked to Trowa expectantly. "What?" he stared back.   
  
"Tell us what was so important that you insisted we go out to eat TODAY, HERE, NOW," Lita reminded.   
  
"Well," he began slowly, considering each word carefully. "I've been doing some thinking. L3 is where I grew up, but I can't say it holds any real pull. Cathy travels with the circus most of the time and all I have are bad memories in most places." They waited patiently for him to go on. He looked at them both seriously, no joke in his eyes. "I've thought about my job- what's to it that can't be done here? Here I have friends, and love," he nodded to them respectively, giving Lita's hand an extra squeeze. They looked back, wide-eyed. Was he saying what they thought he was saying!? "I talked to my boss, and he's arranged everything thus far. I found a real estate agent and this morning made an offer on an apartment. I think I'm here to stay."  
  
They both stared at him, dumbfounded, not sure whether to believe what their ears were telling them. He didn't SEEM to be joking. He sounded very rational, in fact.   
  
"You're moving here?" Quatre asked, a slow smile creeping onto his face.  
  
Lita's hands were shaking. Moving? Here? To stay? She had done her best to block out the part of her mind that reminded her that he had only a few more days here, that he had already extended his stay too long, and suddenly, all that had blown apart. Staying. Near her. Partly because of her. In a rush, she realized how much it hurt to think of him leaving and how she never wanted him to again.   
  
"Lita?" Trowa was looking at her worriedly. She did want him to stay, didn't she?  
  
"Oh-!" she launched herself from her chair and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder with relief.   
  
Trowa's eyes widened and he fell against the seatback as her weight slammed into him, startled. Realizing she was crying, his arms wrapped around her tightly, one gently stroking her long hair, whispering soothing things into her ears. He glanced at an equally confused Quatre, who shrugged. "Lita, what's wrong?"   
  
"Nothing, everything's right!" she pulled back, smiling through her sniffles and wiping her eyes hurriedly. "Oh, Trowa, I didn't want you to go. I didn't want you to go at all! And now you've done so much- moving here, all for me and Quatre-" she hiccupped.   
  
"I doubt it was as much for me as it was for you," Quatre said sagely. "Congratulations, Trowa."   
  
"Are you sure you're alright?" Trowa picked up the napkin and settled her in his lap, dabbing her wet cheeks with it.   
  
"Yes! I've never been happier in my life!" she hugged him around the neck again and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Trowa," she whispered, looking directly into his eyes, so much a mirror of her own.  
  
"Only for you, sugar," he whispered back, overcome again by just how beautiful she was, inside and out, and he kissed her deeply on the lips, making it last.   
  
"I love when you call me that, sugar…"   
  
/Show me that love is worth the wait  
Tell me I'm right  
Give me your love don't hesitate  
Show me tonight  
  
I waited so long for a love so true  
So I'm giving it all right back to you  
I'm giving you my best of silver  
I'm giving you my best of gold  
  
Sugar may hide  
Sugar may burn  
  
So come on baby get those shoes on  
And we can run away from here  
Talk about a life we're starting  
We can start it all right here  
  
Show me that love is worth the wait  
Tell me I'm right  
Give me your love don't hesitate  
Show me tonight/  
  
  
  
There are those times when you just know that two people belong together. You can see it when they're together, and all you ever want is for the two of them to be happy with each other. It's a crime to think they could ever be drawn apart.   
  
Watching my best friend and his love, I get that feeling. It's like getting a glimpse of some little known piece of paradise that only an honored few ever get to see.   
  
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Trowa hadn't come to visit, if I had hired some other catering company. And then I push those thoughts away, because I know that deep down, they're soul mates, and they would've found each other someday, somehow, some way.   
  
Love transcends time and place.   
  
Sugar may hide, sugar may burn, but sugar is always sweet and can always be found. Sugar is love, and sugar learns- and grows.   
  
Happy Anniversary, Trowa, Lita.   
  
  
-Quatre R Winner  
  
____________________________________________  
  
  
  
  
  
*peers over reader's shoulder* Sooooo? You like? Was it too shonen-ai-ish? It's really, really HARD to write about two guys who are friends, especially when at least half the fan community is convinced that they're lovers.   
  
The song is 'Sugar' by Tonic, and Girl Chama found it for me. ^__^ See? Without her, this most likely wouldn't've happened, so be sure to thank her, too.   
  
EEEE unless you hated it, in which case, tell me. Tell me either way, really. If you flame, I'll just add it to the growing pile of mail the G-Boys are gonna answer for me on my website. *wicked grin* We'll have a roast, Lady style.   
  
Erm, no other comments, save thanks a bunch for reading!! ^__^ Do please please please review.   
  
  
-Lady ~.^  
ladylye@ididitmyway.com  
www.ladylye.50megs.com 


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